The 12 Days of Christmas: A Sparrabeth Celebration
by chocolatequeen
Summary: The progression of Jack and Elizabeth's relationship, seen through 12 Christmas themes. Now complete!
1. Freedom

AN: This story will be posted in twelve chapters, one per verse. The story starts the year before the movies and then progresses through the years, following Jack and Elizabeth's relationship. Each chapter takes place on the appropriate day of Christmas—chapter one on Christmas Day, chapter two on Boxing Day, etc.

A Partridge in a Pear Tree

_Freedom_

A breeze carried the sound of laughter up to Elizabeth's window, and she finally tossed the covers back and slid into a pair of slippers. Sleep never came easily on Christmas Eve, but tonight it was anxiety rather than excitement that kept her awake. Her father had invited Captain Norrington to join them for Christmas dinner on the following day, and that told her all she needed to know about his hopes.

"Does it not occur to either of them that I do not want to marry James—that I might even want to marry someone else?" Her thoughts flashed quickly to Will, and she clenched her fists. Her father's attitude toward Will had changed so gradually that Elizabeth was not even certain when exactly he had ceased to be an appropriate companion for the governor's daughter.

The older she became, the more the constraints of society closed about her. At times the expectations pressed so hard she felt she could hardly breathe. James Norrington might be the perfect, proper husband, but no one seemed to realize that she did not wish to be the perfect, proper wife. She tapped her fingers against the smooth, enameled surface of her dressing table a few times, a frown marring her lovely features. "If only James were a bit more interesting, a bit more… of a pirate."

Her frown faded into a secret smile and she opened the bottom drawer of her dressing table. She withdrew a thin, tattered volume and ran her finger across the barely legible title: _A Briefe Historie of Pyrates—Being a First Person Acct. by Jacob Marley._ She'd acquired the book in true pirate fashion—by stealing from a diplomat who'd stayed with them a few years previously.

She sat down and turned to her favorite chapter. _"Of all the scallywags sailing the seas today, none compares with Jack Sparrow…"_

She quickly escaped from her own life into the pages of her book, and when a soft knock brought her back home, she was surprised to see it was growing light. "Miss Elizabeth? Are you awake?"

She barely had time to put the book down before Estrella entered the room. "Good morning, Miss. Happy Christmas!"

Elizabeth peeked out the window and let out her breath on a disappointed sigh. The sunrise painted the sky with pinks and golds, and there was not a cloud in sight. "Is it Christmas?" she questioned bitterly. She did not expect snow of course, but must the sun shine so brightly?

Estrella giggled, completely oblivious to her mistress' mood. "Aye Miss."

Elizabeth watched the girl as she set a fire in the grate and pulled back the curtains before pulling a dress and petticoats out of the wardrobe. She hummed a catchy tune as she worked, and finally she had to ask. "What is that song you're singing?"

Estrella glanced over her shoulder. "Oh this? It's just a new Christmas song I learned—The Twelve Days of Christmas."

Elizabeth walked over to the wash basin and scrubbed her face. "Sing it for me." She pulled her stockings on and then held her hands up and allowed Estrella to drop her shift over her head.

"On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me

A partridge in a pear tree."

Estrella laced up the stays, and Elizabeth frowned. Something wasn't right there, though she wasn't sure what it was. She missed the next few verses as she thought about it, but when she paid attention once more she realized it didn't matter, for the song seemed to repeat itself.

"On the fifth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me:

Five gold rings,

Four colly birds,

Three French hens,

Two turtle doves,

And a partridge in a pear tree."

By the time Elizabeth was fully dressed in two petticoats, a stomacher, and her gown the fictional lady had acquired an entire menagerie, as well as various servants to entertain her. She sat down at her dressing table so Estrella could attend to her hair. "That's quite the list of presents."

"He's an extravagant lover, to be sure Miss," the maid agreed. "But surely any man would be, if he had the means."

Elizabeth ignored the knowing glint in her eye; it did not surprise her that the servants were aware of her father's intentions, but that did not mean she should add to the gossip. She puzzled over the first verse again and finally realized what had bothered her. "Do you know, I have never seen a partridge in any kind of tree at all? They belong on the ground."

Estrella twisted a bit of Elizabeth's hair up before answering, "I wouldn't know Miss; we don't have any partridges in Jamaica."

Elizabeth shrugged and let the subject drop, though she still felt a pang of sympathy for the misplaced bird. "I think I'm ready for the day's festivities, don't you?"

"Oh yes Miss. Captain Norrington won't be able to keep his eyes off you, if I may say so."

The maid bobbed a curtsy and disappeared before Elizabeth could chastise her for speaking out of turn. The nerve of her, to imply that she had dressed to please James Norrington! Still, she had a point and suddenly Elizabeth was none too eager to leave her room.

The window called to her once more. The sun had fully risen, and she looked out at the horizon where the deep azure of the Caribbean met the lighter blue of the sky above. As always, the sight of the open sea created an ache she knew nothing else would assuage. _To be able to sail the seven seas, calling none master but the vast, untamable ocean… _

She could almost taste the salt in the air, and she let out her breath on an exasperated sigh. If she longed for the sea, marrying a Navy captain was a logical choice, so why did she hesitate? Her gaze fell to the book on her writing desk, and she knew—more than the sea alone, she yearned for adventure. Marriage to James Norrington would not give her that.

"If I marry James, I will be just as trapped as that partridge stuck in a ridiculous pear tree." No matter how pretty, a cage was still a cage. This was something she knew all too well.

A knock at her door pulled her from her thoughts. "Elizabeth? Are you ready my dear? I thought we could open our presents before the Captain arrives."

"I'll be right down, Father."

"Very well my dear, but try not to linger much longer. You don't want to spend all of Christmas in your bed chamber, after all."

She heard him walk away and a smile tugged at her lips. Her father loved her, she had never doubted that. It was that love that made him wish to see her settled well. Could her love for him drive her to accept a man who she somehow knew would never possess more than her respect?

She ran her fingers over the title of the book one more time, as if hoping the pirate would step out of the pages and carry her off on the adventure she longed for. "Can you rescue me from this boring, respectable life Jack Sparrow, or is that too much even for you?"


	2. Love

AN: This chapter takes place the year between the first film and the second two, and thus it is outwardly Willabeth. However, there are seeds sown for her relationship with Jack, if you know where to look.

I should state now that I'm not going to change anything you actually see onscreen. As for how I choose to interpret things that might have happened offscreen… well, you'll have to read to find out.

Two Turtle Doves

_Love_

One year later

The Caribbean shimmered deep sapphire blue in the pale, pre-dawn light. A breeze caught the salt air and carried it to the young woman who sat on the beach. The familiar smell brought a smile to her face, the first since she had arrived at the water's edge nearly an hour before.

Elizabeth dug her toes deeper into the sand. Her father would be scandalized if he knew she had snuck out of the house to watch the sunrise over the ocean, but she had desperately needed the time alone. She had let her emotions get the better of her the previous night and in the process she had hurt Will—how deeply she did not know.

The first rays of sunlight peeked over the horizon, and Elizabeth tilted her head back to catch their warmth even as she sighed over her own foolishness. She loved Will; these eight months of courtship had been the happiest of her life. Why then did she purposely provoke him? The sky tinged red with the rising sun, and the color reminded Elizabeth of the festive Christmas decorations adorning the mansion. Against her will, she found herself reliving their fight.

_Supper was over and the revelers were slowly drifting from the dining room to the drawing room. "Shall we?" Elizabeth smiled at Will and took the arm he offered._

_She watched the last few lingerers left and slowed her pace so they were soon several steps behind them. Once everyone was out of sight, she tugged Will out onto a small balcony. _

_The cool air was a welcome relief after spending two hours in the stifling heat of the dining room. However, even as she relaxed she could feel Will's arm tense under her hand. "Elizabeth, what are you doing? The rest of the party is all in the drawing room."_

_She swallowed a flash of irritation. "And that is why we are here," she said pertly. "We've scarcely had a moment alone together all day, Will."_

_"This isn't proper, Elizabeth. If anyone were to find us here…"_

_"I would tell them I had to show you how beautiful the stars are tonight." Elizabeth pointed at the sky. "Can't you just picture the Christmas star, hanging right there?"_

_"You are being nonsensical."_

_Elizabeth's joy turned to disappointment. "Is it nonsensical to wish to be alone with the man I love?"_

_Will sighed and brushed his hair away from his eyes. "No, but this is simply… Elizabeth, you know the rules as well as I do."_

_"I do know the rules," she spat back, angry now. "I know that when a couple…" She stopped herself just in time. She had nearly said, "When a couple is to be married…" but Will had not yet proposed. _

_Will mistook her sudden silence for agreement. "Here, allow me to escort you into the drawing room. I'm sure your father is wondering where you are."_

_"My father!" she nearly shouted. "My father is the reason we have hardly seen each other in the last few weeks. I see you come into the house, and I think you have come to call on me—but no, you simply wish to speak with Father. One would think it was him you came to court."_

_Will didn't speak for a long moment, and when he did his voice was tight with anger. "Now you are being ridiculous."_

_Elizabeth crossed her arms tight across her chest. "You know Will, I begin to wonder if you are more interested in gaining the Governor's favor than my own."_

_Will turned white and she felt a pang of remorse. "Elizabeth… you cannot truly mean that," he stammered. _

_She sighed and dropped her gaze to the tile floor. No, she did not mean it, but she did not know how else to explain how she felt. The silence between them grew thick and she desperately wished for him to speak, but when he did it was not the words she expected._

_"Very well then. If that is the way you feel, perhaps it would be best if I stayed away entirely for a while."_

_"Will, no!" She looked up, but it was too late; he had already left._

Elizabeth sniffed and wiped a tear from her eye. Sitting on the beach crying over their argument would not patch things up between them; at the moment, she wasn't sure how to do that.

She eyed the sun's position in the sky and realized that if she didn't want everyone to know of her brief escape, she needed to return now. She stood and shook the dry sand from her skirt and took one last look at the water before leaving the beach. There was a ship on the horizon, and for an instant, she was tempted to kidnap Will and sail away with him, but even she knew that was not an acceptable answer to their problem.

She had almost reached the house when she was stopped by a barefoot boy dressed in a ragged shirt and pants that were too short for his growing limbs. "Excuse me miss, are you going to the Gov'nor's mansion?"

She hid a smile. "I am."

He held out a letter that looked just as dirty as he was. "Can you deliver this there? I'm needin' to get back to work, but I promised him I'd see it delivered m'self."

"Indeed I shall."

He wiped his nose against the sleeve of his shirt and then said, "Thank ye kindly, miss!" and scurried back down the hill toward the city.

Elizabeth looked down at the letter he'd handed her and was surprised to see to was addressed to her and Will. She flipped it over to examine the seal and her eyes widened when she saw the raised image of a sparrow in flight pressed into the red sealing wax. _Jack Sparrow!_

She ran her finger over the seal and then beneath the seam in the paper, tempted to read it alone. Then she realized she held in her hand an excuse to see him and talk to him. _And perhaps I can find a way to apologize…_

Eager to set her plan in motion, she picked her skirt up and ran up the hill toward home. She slipped in by the same servants' entrance she had exited through before dawn, and though she caught a few disapproving glances from the cook, she knew her secret was safe.

She had just discarded her sandy dress when she heard the knock that indicated Estrella was there to dress her. "Come in!" she called out from her dressing table.

"You're up early this morning, Miss Elizabeth."

Elizabeth smiled. "It's a beautiful day; why should I spend it abed?"

Estrella took the hint and dressed her charge quickly and efficiently. The entire time, Elizabeth kept glancing over at the letter resting on her dressing table, wondering what on earth Jack Sparrow would be writing them for. The last she had seen of him, he had taken a dive off the top of the cliff. She knew he had been picked up by the Pearl, knew also that James had been unsuccessful at capturing that ship. She felt a pang of pity for the Commodore; the longer Jack was free, the worse it looked on his record.

When she was dressed, she grabbed the letter and dashed down the stairs. With a bit of luck, she could leave the house before her father was up for the day. She peeked around the corner when she reached the main floor and drew a breath of relief; he was nowhere in sight.

Her feet easily followed the familiar path to the smithy, and in a few short minutes she was knocking on Will's door. She waited impatiently for it to open, but she was not prepared for his ready smile to disappear when he saw her. "Ah. Good morning, Elizabeth."

His voice was flat and she realized that her words had hurt him even more than she had realized. The letter momentarily forgotten, she held out her hands, but he just looked at them and she dropped them, feeling foolish. "I am sorry, Will. I said some things… I didn't mean what I said. You know that, don't you?"

He sighed and leaned against the door frame. "Of course I do, Elizabeth. I only wish I knew what I did to vex you, that I might not do it again."

_Always so willing to accept the blame for everything…_ Guilt smote her, and she shook her head quickly. "It wasn't you, it was me—me and my silly, impulsive nature. I wish I could explain…" _But I cannot tell you how much it hurts that you have yet to propose._

She stared at him anxiously for a moment, the letter completely forgotten. Finally, he gave her the tiniest hint a smile and she let her breath out. "It seems we have need to talk, but this isn't the place. Will you take a walk with me?"

As she had the evening before, Elizabeth accepted the arm he offered. When she did so, he caught sight of the letter. "What's that?"

"Oh! That would be the other reason I'm here. It's a letter," she explained quickly. "From Jack Sparrow, I think."

He led her down the streets of Port Royal, which were just beginning to fill with the bustle of morning trade. They stepped around an egg seller, and then he said, "A letter from Jack? I wouldn't have thought he was the type for corresponding."

They made their way back to the beach and sat down together on a log that had been washed ashore. "Neither would I, but the crest certainly seems to belong to him." She showed him the raised sparrow before she slid a finger under the flap once more and broke the seal.

She scanned the letter and glanced up at Will. "It is from Jack. Would you like to read it first?"

He shook his head. "Why don't you read it aloud?"

With permission to read, she looked more closely at the letter. The hallmark of the Governor of Virginia was printed prominently at the top of the page, and Elizabeth's brows rose—Jack had travelled farther from the Caribbean than she had realized. There were a few splotches on the paper that her nose told her were rum, and she rolled her eyes.

_To Will and Lizzie—_

She bit back a smile at the greeting. No one had ever called her by the shortened form of her name before, and as much as she protested, it sounded right coming from Jack.

_Year's end has always struck me as a time to settle old scores, and it occurs to me that some might say I owe you a debt. "After all," they might say, "Will and Lizzie did save you from the noose—how do you plan to repay them?"_

"Pirate," Elizabeth muttered.

_Of course, the first answer is that I'm a pirate, mates. What would be the point o' pillaging if I paid back debts? But as I'd rather not have you (or your bloody friend Norrington) coming to collect, perhaps I'd better settle up._

_So I thought about what I could give you as a token of my gratitude. None of me plunder… I don't want another mutiny on my hands. Then it hit me. I already gave you what you wanted most: the chance for Will and his bonny lass to be together._

_The way I see it, if young Will hadn't taken the initiative to free me, you likely never would have been honest about what you wanted. Lizzie would be Mrs. Commodore by now, and Will would still be playing with his swords for three hours a day, in desperate need of a girl._

Elizabeth looked at Will, her brows raised. She had never seen him wear this particular shade of red. "What is he referring to, Will?"

"Just a conversation we had once. Go on, finish the letter."

_Since I'm sure your forthcoming marital felicity—_

She stumbled over the phrase and then rushed on, hoping Will hadn't noticed.

_is of much more value to you turtle doves than my freedom, it seems to me that you are in my debt, rather than the other way around. You saved my life, I gave you yours… let's call it square, a wedding present from- _

_-Capt. Jack Sparrow_

Elizabeth lowered the letter slowly. "Is he trying to thank us, or take credit for our relationship?"

"Both I'd say. Typical Jack." Will looked out at the sea. "There is but one thing that bothers me."

"What is that?"

"That a pirate like Jack Sparrow would assume our relationship would naturally lead to marriage, while I—who pride myself on being a good man—have yet to take that step."

He looked back at her, and she saw the same resolve in his eyes that he had shown the day he recused Jack. "You stumbled over the phrase 'marital felicity'. This is what has been upsetting you, isn't it?" She nodded, her throat too tight to speak. "I am not too proud to take correction when warranted, even if it comes from the hand of a pirate. I have spent more energy cultivating your father's approval than your happiness. Can you forgive me?"

Warmth suffused Elizabeth's heart and she took Will's hands in hers. "Of course I forgive you. Will, I understand why you wanted Father's approval. You wouldn't be the man I love if that did not matter to you. I only wanted…"

Her voice trailed off. A lady did not blatantly ask a man to propose, no matter how strong an understanding they might have. She looked at him beseechingly, and for once, he did not let her down. He smiled the sweet, pure smile she had fallen in love with and dropped to one knee. "Elizabeth Swann, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"


	3. Denial

AN: This is the most obscure use of the True Love's gift. I imagine you'll all find the Three French Hens, but if not feel free to ask.

Three French Hens

_Denial _

One year later

Jack stood straight on the yard. His hand rested lightly on the weathered wood of the mast, but it was his balance that kept him from toppling onto the deck or into the sea. "They're out there somewhere," he muttered.

"What was that Captain?" Gibbs shouted from the deck.

He grabbed the rope and slid down from his perch. "I said they're out there somewhere. We just need to catch up to them."

"Ah, if I may be so bold to ask, Captain…" Gibbs hesitated and Jack motioned impatiently for him to continue. "It seems to me we'd find the Pearl a might faster if we had a heading. You've been ignoring your compass for weeks now—why don't you look at it, just once more?"

Jack rolled his eyes. Gibbs had been pressing him to open the blasted thing for days. In their first few weeks out of Tortuga, it had provided a steady heading, but lately… Well, they'd been out of rum for a while, after all.

_But if it'll quiet him on the subject…_ He opened the compass. "Take us… in a general…" He stopped and stared at the dial.

"Captain?"

Jack shook the compass and looked at it again. The needle hadn't moved. He smiled and pointed east. "That way, Mr. Gibbs!"

The loyal first mate brought the ship about. "Aye, Captain!"

For the better part of a day, there was a noticeably lighter atmosphere on the small ship. They had the Pearl in their sights now, or they very soon would. But as the sun set, Jack realized they were sailing into very familiar waters. _Oh bloody hell… _He yanked the compass from his belt and made to throw it into the sea.

"Jack! What are you doing?"

"I should have gotten rid of this bloody nuisance ages ago. It's led us astray again, mate—we're not going after the Pearl; we're heading straight for Shipwreck Cove."

Gibbs didn't seem as upset as he was. "It'd be nice to have a square meal, and maybe we could find us a ship with a bit more speed," he suggested.

That was a thought that had not occurred to Jack, and he brightened immediately. "A faster ship, you say?"

"Aye, Captain. There's bound to be a ship in port looking for a spot of adventure, and what's better than chasing down the Black Pearl?"

"Indeed. Well then, sail on Mr. Gibbs. If I'm right, we should be reaching Shipwreck Cove tomorrow evening." Jack leaned against the mast, pulled his hat down over his eyes, and was asleep in minutes.

His newfound sanguine attitude disappeared when they pulled into the harbor and he saw the familiar square sails of a Chinese junk outlined against the setting sun. He carefully tied down his pitiful dinghy and then jumped onto the dock, his jaw set.

A trio of beauties approached him at the end of the dock. A buxom blonde stepped forward and placed a hand on Jack's upper arm. "Tu es fort. Peux-tu suivre avec nous?" she purred.

Jack saw the blatant invitation in her eyes and took a step forward, but when he did, the compass hit his leg where it dangled from his belt. That was all it took to pull him back to his purpose, and he peeled the whore's fingers from his arm with regret. "Not tonight I'm afraid ladies," he told them and continued onto dry land, his mood even blacker than it had been before.

He heard footsteps running after him, but he didn't stop. "Jack! You just… those ladies!" Gibbs said, panting between breaths.

Jack didn't look back. "They're all yours, mate," he said, the barest hint of regret tinging his voice. "Lizzie and I are long overdue for a conversation." _About why she keeps interfering with my bloody compass,_ he finished silently.

He didn't hesitate when he reached the town of Shipwreck, but headed for the labyrinthine fortress that also housed the Court of the Brethren. His father was waiting for him at the door. _Does nothing ever surprise the old man?_ Jack wondered briefly.

"Nice of you to come home for Christmas, Jacky."

Jack grinned his most dishonest smile. "Isn't family what this season is all about?"

He didn't expect Teague to believe a word of it, but his dry chuckle grated nonetheless. "She's down that hall."

Jack refused to look in the direction he pointed. "Who's that?"

Teague raised his eyebrows and picked up his guitar. After a few minutes, Jack's initial frustration overcame his need to thwart his father, and he meandered down the hall he'd indicated. The light and laughter from the third room on the right drew him on. The door was partially open, so he nudged it and then leaned against the frame. Elizabeth's back was turned toward him, and she was laughing with another young lady, her maid perhaps?

"Your highness," he said, and he felt a rush of satisfaction when Elizabeth's spine straightened. "I have come to pay my royal respects."

She turned and Jack's jaw dropped. "Hello, Jack."

"Lizzie! You're… you're…" He gestured wildly at her large belly.

"I believe pregnant is the word you're looking for." She nodded at the girl, who scurried out of the room.

"Yes, but _how_?"

Her lips quirked upward into a mocking smile. "I didn't think I would need to explain that to Jack Sparrow."

"Captain," he said automatically, his mind still reeling from the shook. He had no delusions of exactly how Will would spend his one day, but he hadn't expected such… unavoidable evidence of it. "Then you're here…"

"Because this is the safest place for the pirate king to have a baby and raise a child, as strange as it sounds."

Some of his equilibrium returned, and Jack grinned at her. "Well well. Pirate king, wife, and now mother… I imagine this year didn't turn out as you'd planned."

Her smile dimmed. "I did think I'd be married by now."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "If you're wanting someone to fulfill your husband's conjugal duties, don't look this way lass. If you were married to anyone but the whelp, I'd be more than willing to oblige; as it is, I don't fancy being in bad books with the Dutchman's captain yet again."

Elizabeth crossed her arms over her stomach and said with asperity, "I don't believe you were asked, Captain Sparrow." Her eyes narrowed. "Why are you here, Jack? The last anyone heard, you were sailing in search of the Fountain of Youth."

An idea formed in Jack's mind, and he rocked back on his heels and waved his hands expansively. "I was—I am—but it seems that fate had a different plan in store and I find myself once again searching for more than just treasure." _Maybe this is the reason my compass led me here._

"Barbossa stole the Pearl again, didn't he?" she asked with a smirk.

"The cur is taking my ship on an unauthorized cruise, as it were."

Jack took an unsteady step toward Elizabeth, but she waved her hand impatiently. "Oh, save the drunken act for someone who doesn't know you as well, Jack. You only pretend you don't know what you're saying when you don't other people to understand what you're saying."

He tilted his head back and put a hand on his chest. "I'm hurt you'd say something like that, Lizzie. Have I ever asked you for something you weren't willing to give?"

She actually laughed at that, and Jack wondered if she'd become more of a pirate than he'd realized. "You're here for my ship, aren't you? Admit it, Jack."

"All right, all right! It's not like you're going to be sailing anywhere like that." He gestured at her belly.

She tapped the side of her face a few times. "I am inclined to acquiesce to your request, Captain Sparrow—" Jack gave a cheer, and she held up her hand to forestall his celebration. "On one condition."

Jack eyed her warily. Elizabeth rarely asked for things that would be easy to give. "What condition?"

"Be my child's godfather."

His stumble then was no act; indeed, her words nearly sent him to the floor in shock. "I can honestly say no one has ever asked me that before."

She shrugged. "You're the only person I know, Jack. Will is gone, my father is gone…" Her voice trailed off for a moment and then came back strong. "You may be a pirate, but I trust you with my life, and I'd trust you with my baby's life. You're a good man, Jack Sparrow."

He eyed her warily. "Being a good man hasn't gotten me very far… you sure you want me in charge of raising your little one should you go to… ah, your husband's locker?"

"I don't plan on dying. I just want to know that if anything does happen, someone will be there for our child. Will can't, or he would." Jack wavered, and Elizabeth, seeing her advantage, said, "You can buy him his first hat."

He brightened. "A really big one?"

"With a feather, if you like."

"All right, luv. We've an accord."

Disclaimer: I forgot to post this with the earlier chapters. I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean. I am not making any money on the writing of this story, and no copyright infringement is intended.


	4. Temptation

AN: Originally, the True Love gave "four colly birds," colly meaning black. I spent hours researching the symbolism of blackbirds and I was amazed by what I found.

I also learned that December 28 is the Feast of Innocents, which I thought was marvelously ironic considering the theme of this chapter.

Disclaimer: Pirates of the Caribbean does not belong to me. I am not making any money off of this story.

Four Colly Birds

_Temptation_

One year later

Elizabeth watched the Pearl slide into her berth in Shipwreck Cove, Jack at the helm. Tai Haung pulled the Empress in beside her and the two crews worked in tandem to tie the ships to the dock. It seemed to take forever, and she was as antsy as the crew when then Jack finally gave the order they were looking for: "What are you waiting for, you scurvy dogs? Get out of here!"

The men were gone before he'd finished the sentence. She walked down the dock and stood at the end of the gangplank. A few minutes later, he appeared and she enjoyed the startled look on his face. "Can't a pirate ever sneak into port unawares?"

"Not if his sails are black," she retorted, watching him stagger toward dry land. "The watch spotted you on the horizon almost an hour ago."

He grinned at her and she was momentarily blinded when the sun caught the gold in his teeth. "And you couldn't wait to say hello, could you Lizzie-luv?"

She snorted. "Hardly. I simply wanted to assure myself that you hadn't managed to lose _my_ ship on this particular voyage."

His amused expression made her feel like a child with her hand caught in the cookie jar. "The watch couldn't tell you that? Admit it, Your Highness—you missed me."

Her hands clenched and unclenched reflexively. _How does he always do this to me? _"You haven't met your godson yet, Jack. Come on, his nursery is this way." She set a fast pace and the few seconds before Jack caught up with her gave her a chance to gather the self-control that was always so fragile when Jack Sparrow was around.

"What have you been up to this year, Captain Swann—sorry, Turner?" he asked a moment later.

She sent him a sidelong glance. "Having a baby kept me pretty well occupied, Captain Sparrow. Speaking of… wait here."

She ducked into the nursery. "How is he this afternoon, Sarah?" she asked the nurse.

"He just woke up from his nap, ma'am."

Elizabeth tickled him under the chin and the tension Jack always caused evaporated. "Shall we introduce you to your Uncle Jack?" she asked quietly. The baby laughed and she scooped him up.

Jack was leaning against the wall when she exited the room. "You know Lizzie…" he started to say, but his words trailed away to nothing when he caught sight of Liam. He reached a tentative hand out to touch her son's cheek, and the unfamiliar expression in his eyes made her stomach flip. "This be William Turner III, I expect?" he asked finally.

Elizabeth nodded and brushed his dark, baby fine hair back. "I call him Liam. Doesn't he look like Will?"

He nodded, but his eyes shifted to the left slightly, and she knew he was lying. She opened her mouth to berate him, but then he said "He has your eyes though," and all her ire melted away.

"Thank you, Jack."

He swayed on his feet, his eyes cloudy, and she wondered how he might deflect her gratitude."This seems the perfect time for Christmas gifts," he said.

Elizabeth chuckled. "Do pirates give Christmas gifts?" she teased.

Jack placed his hand over his heart, and she rolled her eyes at his melodrama. "I'm hurt, luv. I promised to buy him a gift last year before he was even born."

Her brow furrowed as she tried to work that one out, and then her eyes widened. "Jack, you didn't!"

"'Course I did! Every pirate needs a hat!" Jack pulled the tricorn out of his bag and placed it on Liam's head.

It covered the infant's face entirely, and she took it off with an exasperated huff. "I expected you to buy the hat when he was old enough to know what it meant. And I thought you were going to buy him one with a feather."

Jack shifted slightly. "Ah, well as to that… I meant to, thought it was what I wanted, and then I saw this one…"

"It's just like your hat."

"Aye."

With that one word answer, something warm pierced her heart and she cast around for a way to lighten the conversation. After a moment she grinned and said, "I'll warn you, he'll be too young to crew the Pearl for some years yet."

Jack's rich chuckle washed over her. "Just doing what any godfather would do, luv. And I have something for Your Royal Highness as well—" She opened her mouth to protest, but he waved her off. "Comes from your share of the plunder we took on this voyage."

She cocked her head to the left and stared at him in puzzlement. "My share… but I wasn't even there."

"Then consider it tribute, or consider it self-serving pirates not wanting Captain Turner to hear we've let his wife and child starve."

She shook her head and smiled. "What's this gift you have for me, pirate?"

He opened his hand so she could see the pieces of jewelry he held. "I… acquired these on one of the ships we pillaged, and I couldn't see what use I'd have for a necklace. They're mere trinkets but…"

She held the necklace up and felt like she'd been hit in the stomach. "It's a blackbird," she said, striving to inject some enthusiasm into her voice.

He reached into his pocket and withdrew two earrings and a bracelet. "Four blackbirds," he corrected. "Carved from jet."

In the back of her mind, Elizabeth could hear her old nurse telling her she was being unpardonably rude, but she could not bring herself to take the jewelry from him. Finally, he hooked the bracelet around her wrist himself and placed the earrings in her hand.

She cast around for some excuse to get away from him, and when Liam squirmed in her arms, she nearly wept in relief. "Thank you so much Jack. I hope you don't mind, but I need to change Liam's nappy."

As expected, the pirate took a giant step backwards, his arms out in front of him. "More information than I needed to know, luv," he said, his nose wrinkled.

She nearly ran back to the nursery and quickly cared for Liam's needs. Once he was safely ensconced in his cradle, she sank into her rocking chair and took the bracelet off. Looking at it now, she realized it closely resembled the bird in Jack's own tattoo, and that drew a broken laugh from her. "A blackbird in flight," she murmured. "Oh Jack…"

Elizabeth had been to catechism class, she knew what blackbirds were supposed to represent. She could still hear the dry voice of her teacher—"The blackbird in flight represents the temptation to desire."

Oh, she was tempted. Her fingers curled into her palms every time she saw him, itching with the need to touch him. He didn't know; he couldn't know how often her curiosity nearly got the better of her. When she lay in her lonely bed, it was the memory of his kiss—not her husband's—that kept her warm.

He had spoken truly earlier; she had missed him. Even though he could never be hers, as soon as she'd known he was sailing into port, the need to see him had been overwhelming. So she'd trundled down the dock to meet him, hating her own weakness every step of the way.

She held the pendant between her fingers and was surprised by its warmth. A blackbird in flight… could she resist the temptation? Jack had called her number years ago when he'd said they were peas in a pod. She was a pirate, and a pirate took what she wanted, no quarter given.

She rose from her chair, but before she could take a step, Liam stirred in his sleep, a soft murmur coming from his sweet mouth. "I cannot," she said, looking at her son. "I cannot betray his father, no matter how much I might wish it. But what do I do instead?"

She was mightily tempted to tear the baubles off and throw them at the wall, but some perverse need to test her self-control refused to let her do that. She carefully put on the earrings and the necklace and left the nursery, wondering if everyone could see her desire for Jack Sparrow or if she hid as well as she hoped.


	5. Promise

AN: Thanks to those who've reviewed—seeing your comments in my inbox makes me smile.

Disclaimer: Pirates of the Caribbean is the property of Walt Disney Studios. I am not making any money on this story and no copyright infringement is intended.

Five Gold Rings

_Promise_

Jack whistled a jaunty tune as he strolled up the gangplank late the next evening, pleasantly buzzed from good rum and better company. Aye, the ladies of Shipwreck still knew how to show a pirate a good time.

His lascivious rememberings were interrupted by a familiar voice. "And a good evening to you as well, Jack."

He squinted in the weak light and made out a figure leaning against his cabin door. "Liz'beth? That be you?"

She snorted and stepped out of the shadows. "What other lady would be waiting for you at your door?" He grinned and she held her hand up. "On second thought, don't answer that."

He attempted a mocking bow but the effect was ruined when he nearly toppled over. "Might have had more rum than I thought," he mumbled.

She sighed and grabbed him by the waist. He'd been trying to get her slim form next to his for some time, and like a pirate he took full advantage. He stumbled sideways and for a brief moment, he had her pressed tight against him.

Before he could relish the feeling overly much, she straightened and asked, "Where is the key?"

He was perfectly capable of withdrawing the key himself, but as long as she was willing to help… "In m'pocket, luv."

Even without being able to see her face, he knew she rolled her eyes, but a moment later he was rewarded when her small hand slipped into the pocket of his waistcoat and dug around for the key. He drew in a breath when her fingers brushed against his ribs in the process, and he felt a sharp pang of regret when she found what she was looking for and pulled away from him.

Somehow she got the door open without dropping him and dragged him inside. "Have you done anything but drink rum since I saw you yesterday?"

He slouched into a chair and gave her a lustful grin. "Do you want me to answer that question, darlin?" He laughed when she glared at him. "Now, why exactly were you waiting at my door? I'm not complainin' mind you, but your dearly departed husband might not appreciate it if I partook of your company."

He wasn't drunk enough to miss the flash of desire in her eyes. _Ah, so it's still mutual,_ he thought with a glimmer of satisfaction. The blackbird gleamed against her fair skin, and he knew he'd been right to give it to her. _You'll give in eventually, Lizabeth. _

She sat down at the table across from him. "I promised I'd visit you today, Jack."

He raised an eyebrow. Evidently she'd decided to ignore his advances—an interesting change, as Lizzie only ignored that which she could not defeat. "And you always keep your promises, is that it?"

She shifted ever so slightly at his emphasis on the word promises, and he fought a grin. But she was not completely disarmed. "There's also the matter of that loot _you_ promised _me._"

He laughed and pointed a finger at her. "Pirate."

She merely held her hands out as if to say, _"Well, where is it?" _He laughed again and then pulled a small locked box out from under his bed, unlocked it, and withdrew a bag.

He poured the plunder out on the table, and his mouth went dry when he saw the way her eyes glittered. "We all like a bit of sparkle, don't we love?"

She sorted through the loot instead of answering him, letting the coins sift through her fingers. Soon it was all arranged into piles of like items—silver coins, gold coins, and— "Five gold rings?"

He picked one up and twisted it around in his fingers. "You're the pirate king, lass, but you don't look the part." He held up his own beringed hand. "You need a few bits of treasure to wear."

A shadow crossed her face, though she laughed. "After a year and a half on land, I'm surprised they haven't taken my title away from me."

Anticipation tightened in Jack's gut, but he kept his voice level. "When do you plan to go back to sea?"

He thought he was subtle, but her eyes narrowed. "Is that what these are about?" she asked, scooping the rings up and waving them in front of his face.

He moved his head back sharply to avoid getting a ring shoved up his nose. "M'sure I don't know what you're talking about, Lizzie."

Her laughter was brittle. "I'm talking about you bribing me into piracy."

Jack stood and placed his hands flat on the table. "No one's ever needed to bribe you into piracy; you've always taken it up quite willingly."

"I was not a mother then," she said, her voice sharp.

"I fail to see how that makes a difference."

She scowled. "A pirate ship is no place to raise a child."

"I was raised on a pirate ship."

"I rest my case."

They stood nose to nose now, and she punctuated that last insult with a sharp jab at his chest. Her eyes sparked with anger, and for a moment his anger was lost in the desire to kiss her. He stepped back, and once he had regained control, he said, "You're a pirate, Lizabeth. A pirate king, no less. The sea is in your blood, same as mine. If you ignore that, how long do you think it'll be before you resent young Liam?"

The slap was unexpected, though he admitted to himself that perhaps he deserved it. She stalked out of the cabin without a word, leaving her booty spread out on the table. He carefully gathered it back into the bag, wondering where his plan had gone astray. It had seemed foolproof—he'd remind her what she was missing at sea and suggest she retake her rightful place as captain of the Empress and sail alongside him. He knew she missed the open water, he could see the same trapped yearning in her eyes that he felt if he was ashore for long. And god, look at the way she'd played with the gold. No one could tell him she didn't wish for the pirate's life.

So why wouldn't she admit it? He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his cheek where she'd slapped him. Maybe she had admitted it—he hadn't missed the tears in her eyes just before she'd left.

_You pushed too hard, Jacky._

Jack flinched. Much to his dismay, the voices in his head had picked up Teague's speech patterns lately.

_Listen when I'm talking to you, lad—you know I'm right._

Jack hesitated; he hated admitting he was wrong, especially to Teague. That Teague was only in his mind made no difference. He pushed his tongue against the cheek she'd slapped and felt the bruise forming there. "She belongs at sea."

_She belongs with her son._

The idea of being responsible for someone else's well-being was foreign to Jack, and it took some time to wrap his mind around it. "Is she not to have anything for herself then?" Teague apparently had not answer for that, and finally he went to bed, the bag of treasure still sitting on the table.

Somehow he wasn't surprised to find Lizzie sitting at the table when he woke up. "Ye should know better than to break into a pirate's quarters, lass," he told her, his voice thick with sleep. "I could have taken you for an intruder and shot you."

She smirked. "I took your pistol when I walked in."

He felt under his pillow and realized his gun was indeed gone. He leered at her. "And so you did. Did you enjoy being that close to a sleeping Jack Sparrow?"

She blushed but did not look away. "I came to apologize, Jack. I shouldn't have slapped you."

He sat up and pulled his shirt on. "Turn around, luv." She looked at him quizzically. "Unless you're wanting to get a closer look at the goods, darlin…" He laughed softly when she whirled around and then quickly got dressed. "All right, now we can talk."

She peeked over her shoulder and then turned around. "As I said…"

"What exactly are you apologizing for, luv?"

Her brow furrowed. "I slapped you."

"Wasn't the first time I've been slapped, and I daresay it won't be the last."

"I can't say that surprises me."

"What I want to know is why _you_ slapped me, Elizabeth."

Her eyes shifted to the window, and he knew she was straining for some glimpse of the sea. When she finally answered, her voice was so low he could barely hear the words. "Because you were right. I miss seeing the sun rise of the very edge of the horizon, I miss the smell of the salt air in my face, I even miss the hard work." She took a deep breath and looked back at him. "But a ship isn't any place for an infant."

He had been poised to argue, but he could see how much that decision cost her and he suddenly didn't want to add to her burden. She held out her hand, and he realized for the first time that she'd been playing with the treasure while he was sleeping. She placed the five rings in his hand and said, "I can't take these, Jack." 

The answer came to him even as he wondered what to say. "Liam won't always be an infant." He slid a ring onto her right index finger. "He'll be older next year—" the middle finger of her left hand—"and older still the year after that." Both thumbs bore rings now, and he held the fifth up. "Send word when you're ready and the Pearl and Empress will set sail together." He gave her a crooked smile. "Someone needs to teach young Liam to be a proper pirate."

She took the last ring, and he held his breath while she rolled it around in her hands. Much to his surprise, she slid it on his own pinky. "I expect to collect that from you when you come for me Captain Sparrow, so you'd better not lose it."


	6. Confusion

Disclaimer: Pirates of the Caribbean belongs to Walt Disney Studios. I make no money off the writing of this story and no copyright infringement is intended.

Six Geese a-Laying

_Confusion_

Two years later

Elizabeth stared at the Pearl and frowned. Her crew had pulled into Shipwreck Cove on Christmas Eve and had joined them at the annual feast the next day. The cook had slaughtered an additional two geese for a total of six, along with a table replete with every other delicacy one could find in the Caribbean, but Elizabeth hadn't been able to enjoy a bite of it. She'd been on tenterhooks the entire meal, waiting for Jack to ask if she was ready to sail.

Instead, he'd barely spoken to her, showering his attention on Liam instead. On Christmas morning he'd presented to child with more toys than a boy not quite two really needed, and together they'd spent the week romping around Shipwreck. Liam had been delighted with the man he'd quickly dubbed "Unca Jack" in his childish gibber, and Elizabeth had been amazed that the attachment seemed to be mutual.

She couldn't help but wonder if Will would have given their son the same easy affection that Jack showed him. She felt guilty at the comparison, as well as a flash of resentment that Will wasn't here to share these precious years. Where that resentment was directed she couldn't tell.

She'd been grateful at first that his preoccupation with Liam kept him from pestering her about joining him at sea. However, it had been six days now and a frisson of doubt had stolen into her heart—was he being polite, or didn't he want her anymore? That question was what brought her to the docks this morning, though she wasn't sure how she was going to ask it.

A familiar face peered over the railing. "Are you going to come aboard Lizzie, or do you just plan on starin' at me ship all day?"

"I hadn't quite made up my mind," Elizabeth called back.

"Well, when ya do, I'll be in my cabin."

Jack had his hand on the door when Elizabeth stepped on deck. He turned and grinned at her. "That didn't take long."

_I played right into his hand. _She crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes.

He laughed, hands up. "Now don't look at me like that lass—I'm a pirate, remember?"

"As if I could forget," she muttered and entered the cabin ahead of him. In the process, her arm brushed against his and the charge of awareness she always felt in his presence shot through her.

Jack closed the door and came round to the other side of the table, his gaze on her the whole time. "I see you're still dressing in men's clothing, Lizabeth—I always told you…"

Her agitation added an extra measure of asperity to her voice. "Yes, I am sure you have no dress in this cabin, Captain Sparrow."

His smirk did little to put her at ease. "If you're not here to discuss your wardrobe—disappointing, to be sure—why have I been graced with your presence, my liege?"

She was on sure footing for the first time since she'd stepped into the cabin-she'd spent that time when she was staring at the Pearl searching for a plausible excuse for her visit, and she'd just come up with a good answer when he'd beckoned to her. "I wanted to thank you for all the gifts you've sent Liam."

Jack leaned back in his chair, a genuine smile on his face. "He's enjoyed them, then?"

"Most definitely, though I must protest your propensity for finding the noisiest toys imaginable in every port." She rolled her eyes when he laughed. "Really Jack—bongo drums for an infant?"

"Merely trying to give him a spot of fun, luv."

"Trying to give his mother a headache, more like," she retorted, though she couldn't help but smile when she remembered how much Liam always enjoyed the presents from his godfather.

"Come now Lizzie, I've listened to him playing on them the last few days and they're not that bad." His fingers tapped a restless beat on the table.

"He's barely touched them since you arrived. You've been his favorite plaything this week Jack, and you know it." Every time she walked into the nursery, Liam was climbing all over Jack, playing with the beads in his hair or trying to grab the hat from his head.

"Never knew little ones could be so entertaining," Jack acknowledged. "I'll miss having him tag along after me once we're back at sea."

This was the opening she'd been looking for. "I have to admit, I'm surprised you haven't suggested we come with you when you sail."

He stilled. "Are you ready then?"

She ached to say yes. If she'd missed being at sea two years ago, that longing had since become a gaping hole. Only the knowledge that these shore bound years wouldn't last forever kept her from losing her mind. For a moment, she thought she could do it. Liam had grown—he was walking and talking now, and in a few short months he would be two.

Then she pictured her son caught in the middle of a fight because he hadn't understood the necessity of obeying an order. "No." The word was bitter in her mouth.

He nodded. "Aye, I thought not."

"The offer is still open though?" She hated herself for needing the reassurance, but she did.

He raised an eyebrow. "I thought I'd made that clear two years ago, Lizzie-luv. You let me know when you're ready, and we'll sail together."

She shrugged delicately. "Well yes… but when you didn't ask, I did wonder if you still wanted me."

She realized what she'd said an instant too late. The latent tension between them sparked to life and suddenly the room was too hot. Jack's voice poured over her like smooth chocolate, and she barely repressed a shiver. "Oh, I'll always be wantin' ya darlin, but somehow I don't think that's what you meant."

The next words came out even as she told herself not to say them. "I thought pirates took what they wanted, no questions asked."

Jack's hands clenched and unclenched on top of the table. "If you don't plan to follow through on your words, you'd best stop now, luv."

The desire she saw in his eyes took her breath away, and even she wasn't sure what she was going to say when she opened her mouth. "Liam isn't ready yet."

"I know that." His hands relaxed. "I admit, I had plans to persuade you to join us on this voyage, but after spending some time with the lad, I can see it's not time. Another few years perhaps…"

Disappointment knifed through her, though she wasn't sure if it was because of the delay, or because his voice had lost some of the husky timbre she loved. "When you didn't ask, I wondered…"

"If maybe I'd changed my mind about sailing with a child in tow?" She nodded. "Don't you worry about that, Lizabeth—that's one promise I aim to keep."

"Thank you." On impulse, she reached across the table and took one of his hands in hers. "I do wish I could come now, you know."

"Aye Lizzie, I do." She watched mesmerized, as he turned his hand over and lightly stroked the inside of her wrist. "And now luv, if you want to be keepin' all the promises _you've_ made, I think it's best if you go home."

The banked heat she saw in his eyes held her in place, and it wasn't until it flamed to life that she realized exactly what promises he referred to. She somehow managed to grab the tatters of her self-control and flee before she gave into the temptation he presented, but the close call shook her.

The memory of those few seconds of decision kept her awake long into the night. She knew she should be relieved he had not taken what she'd come so near to offering, but it was relief mingled with regret. _Will, where are you? I need you,_ she cried out desperately. No answer came, and she finally drifted off to sleep wondering if next time, she would be strong enough to run.


	7. Trust

AN: I'm sorry this is late. First I was ill, then I spent most of today dealing with a recalcitrant muse. I hope you enjoy it!

Seven Swans a-Swimming

_Trust_

Three years later

The Pearl slipped into Shipwreck Cove at twilight on the last day of the year. Jack's gaze wandered over the wharf as he guided her safely into her berth, and he breathed a sigh of relief when he didn't see Elizabeth. It would be hard enough to tell the story without her asking questions before he could explain.

Tired and rundown as the crew was, they still made short work of the final tasks of the voyage. A nod from Jack was all it took; down to a man they left the ship in favor of the taverns and brothels of the town. He couldn't blame them—it had been a bloody difficult trip. He collected the package of gifts out of his cabin and then, with a final look around the deck, he too went ashore.

He slung the bag over his shoulder and walked down the streets of Shipwreck with a quick step. Not that he was eager to impart the news he had, but he was eager to see Liam again—_And Elizabeth too?_ the voices in his head taunted. "Yes, all right and bloody Elizabeth too," he fairly growled.

The voices had been teasing him for quite some time, growing especially loud when a letter arrived from the pirate king. Never mind that the letters were nearly always filled with news about Liam, the voices delighted in the fact that Jack Sparrow received letters from home. If the crew had similar questions, they wisely kept them to themselves.

In the last few months, those missives had contained notes written in Liam's childish hand. In fact, the long-awaited request had actually been written by the lad—"Please come for us, Uncle Jack. Mama says I am ready." Beneath it, in Lizzie's perfect, even script, were the words he had been waiting for: "We'll be waiting for you, Jack."

Well, now he was here, but he wasn't sure what kind of reaction he'd get. He took a deep breath and knocked on the door of her private sitting room. "Come in."

He pushed the door open and sucked in a breath; lord, but she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. "Did you miss me, Lizzie?"

Her smile was genuine. "You know I did, Jack. It's good to see you."

"I have presents for Liam, but I suppose he's already in bed?"

"Yes, and I can't say I'm sorry." The dry humor in her voice made him smile. "He's been impossible to live with these last few weeks, asking every day when you were going to arrive."

He heard the question in her voice, and he winced. "I'm sorry I couldn't be here for Christmas; we ran into a spot of weather." That was a gross understatement, but it was still the truth.

"I understand Jack, and in time so will he. I'm just glad you're here now."

_Tell her!_

He ignored the voices, as he was so good at doing, and directed the conversation back to the subject of gifts. "As it happens, I have something in this bag for a pirate king, but maybe you should wait and open yours with Liam."

She made a good show of nonchalance, but he knew her well enough to spot the extra sparkle in her eye. "Liam will be so excited to see you tomorrow, I'd hate to take any of your attention from him."

Her attempt at logic made him laugh, and he realized with a start that it was the first time he'd done so in weeks. "All right then, here you go."

He handed her a long, thin package and watched as she ripped the plain paper from it to reveal a knife in a leather sheath. "Oh Jack, this is lovely!" Her fingers lightly stroked over the etched leather, and for a moment he was lost in the thought of what it would feel like to have those same fingers lightly stroke…

_Do you really want to go there now, Jacky? Think she'll listen to a word of your suggestion if you're lookin' at her in a lascivious manner? _Point made, Jack quickly redirected his thoughts—though in truth, hearing Teague's voice in his head easily extinguished any lustful ideas he might have had.

He leaned over and ran his own fingers over the leather design, not unaware of the shiver that elicited from her. "It was the pattern that made me think of you," he said. "Six swans, for Elizabeth Swann."

Her eyes glowed, and he made himself move back before he kissed her. "Thank you Jack, it's lovely."

"Glad you like it, luv."

"It's hard to believe I'll be celebrating next Christmas on the Empress."

"As to that, Elizabeth…" He couldn't hide his grimace this time.

Her voice sharpened. "What happened to my ship, Jack?"

"I might have downplayed the weather a slight bit." He held his hand up to indicate a pinch.

"How much?"

He heard a murmur and glanced over his shoulder at Liam's door. "Lower your voice, luv—you don't want to wake him up, do you?"

"Don't tell me to keep my voice down!" she ordered, but she dropped to a whisper. "Tell me what happened to my ship, Jack Sparrow, or so help me…"

"Hurricane." Her face went white, and he wished there had been a different way to tell her, a better way… but nothing would change the facts.

"How bad?"

Her eyes pleaded with him, and for an instant he was tempted to lie. But how would he explain that in the morning though when she went to the docks and the Empress wasn't there? Instead, he simply shook his head.

A light went out in her eyes, and he offered her a sympathetic smile. "I'm sorry, Lizabeth. We tried to save the crew, but…"

"Oh god, the crew. Did you lose anyone?"

"No, we were lucky this time. Still, the Pearl barely pulled through. It'll be a month at least before she's ready to sail."

She seemed to be staring at a place just above his shoulder. "We'll be sorry to see you go."

"What?" He frowned. "Lizabeth, you can't be thinking I'll leave you here."

She looked at him, and it was obvious she did. He knew then what he'd seen die in her eyes a moment ago; she thought she'd lost the sea. Her next words confirmed it. "I can't very well sail without a ship."

He snorted. "And you don't know anyone who owns a ship, is that it?" He didn't wait for her to answer. "I promised we'd sail together when you were ready, and I'll hold to that. We'll just be on the same ship is all."

She tilted her head and looked at him skeptically. "You'll take another captain on board the Pearl? Hasn't that caused you enough problems in the past?"

"I trust you, Lizzie—strange thing that, given that you actually killed me once. However, I've no worries you'll start a mutiny against me."

"And what of sleeping arrangements, Captain Sparrow? As I recall, the Pearl only has one cabin. Where will Liam and I live?"

Now it was his turn to avoid direct eye contact. "I admit, the Pearl isn't exactly surfeit of living quarters, unless you were wanting to sleep with the crew…" She wrinkled her nose. "No, I thought not. I seem to recall you have a certain fondness for personal hygiene, which I can guarantee my crew do not share."

"Am I to understand from your rambled mumblings that you wish me to sleep in your bed, Captain Sparrow?"

Had Teague been standing in the room with them, Jack wouldn't have been able to control his reaction to those words. His voice dropped and he said, "I think we both know there's never been a doubt of that."

She blushed and looked down at the knife. Once free of the enthralling lure of her brown eyes, he was able to breathe a little more freely and he said, "However, in this particular instance I'm wishin' you to sleep in my bed while I'm not in it." _Not precisely true, but close enough_.

"And where do you intend to sleep while I am…" She paused and he held his breath. "…taking up your quarters?"

Her careful phrasing drew a grateful chuckle from him. "I'll be with me crew, lass."

"It doesn't seem right for the captain to sleep with the crew," she protested.

"Well, unless you're offering…" He raised his eyebrows meaningfully.

"No, of course not. I simply…" She frowned. "I suppose there isn't any other answer. We can hang a hammock for Liam of course, until he's old enough to sleep with the crew as well."

"Then we're in agreement."

She looked at him slyly. "I suppose, Captain Sparrow, if you can trust me not to start a mutiny then I can trust you to keep your hands to yourself."

Disclaimer: Pirates of the Caribbean belongs to Walt Disney Studios. I make no money off this story, and no copyright infringement is intended.


	8. Longing

AN: I've changed the rating from K+ to T. As I told Jack and Elizabeth's story, I realized that they use their mutual attraction as a shield to keep them from thinking about the emotions behind it. That meant way more UST than I'd anticipated.

Eight Maids a-Milking

_Longing_

One year later

Music floated up to the stars from the decks of the Black Pearl. Elizabeth's feet tapped in time with the merry tune, and she moved away from the railing to join the revelers celebrating the first day of a new decade. Mr. Gibbs played the hornpipe, and she smiled with pride when Liam joined in on his penny whistle.

Her eyes drifted to the quarter deck where Jack stood. One hand rested lightly on the wheel, guiding his ship with easy confidence. The other gesticulated wildly as he told a story to several of the crew.

Ragetti's braying laughter filled the air, and Mr. Cotton tilted his head back in silent amusement. His parrot squawked, "Awck! Prepare to be boarded," which generated a new round of laughter. Her curiosity aroused, Elizabeth climbed the stairs so she could hear Jack's tale.

"Indeed, Mr. Cotton! Me mates and I had just thought to take refuge in an empty barn, but instead…" Jack waved his hands through the air in the shape of an hourglass. "Well, their sweet bodies moving so rhythmically is a sight I'll not soon forget. To be greeted by eight milkmaids, like plums ripe for the picking…"

Elizabeth turned bright red—she should have known he told a ribald tale. _I don't need to hear how this one ends,_ she thought and she went back to the main deck. Still, she could not help but picture Jack bedding one of those milkmaids, and her face burned even more. _Strumpets!_

A tug on her jacket distracted her. "What is it, Liam?"

He looked up at her, his brow furrowed into a frown. "Mama, what does Uncle Jack mean when he does this?"

Elizabeth was horrified when her six year old son created the hourglass shape with his own hands, imitating his godfather right down the odd wiggle of the fingers at the end. "I'll tell you when you're older," she told him shortly. "Now go say good night to Uncle Jack; it's time for bed."

Liam tromped up the stairs and wrapped his arms around his godfather, stopping the pirate in mid-sentence. He whispered something in his ear, and a moment later Jack looked down at her. She crossed her arms and glared; she was not pleased with him, and she did not care if he knew it.

She went through the nightly rituals with Liam by rote, helping him into his nightshirt, making sure he put his clothes away, and watching over him until he was asleep. The whole time, she replayed Jack's story and its inevitable conclusion.

Once the boy was asleep, she left the private cabin where they slept in favor of the main cabin. She poured herself a healthy glassful of rum and downed it in one gulp. "Pirate!" she muttered.

She could still picture Jack locked in a passionate embrace with some busty milkmaid, so she poured herself another glass and paced the floor. "Brazen hussies!" That the pirates in question had no qualms accepting what the ladies offered made no difference to her.

This glass of rum she drank more slowly, punctuating each irate fragment with another sip. "How could he… why doesn't he think… And in front of Liam!"

She pinked with embarrassment yet again at the thought of Liam's question. _Bad enough that Jack slept with that… that… harlot, but to tell the tale in front of my son…_

"I need some air." She took another peek at Liam to assure herself he slept on and then left the cabin altogether.

The party had long since broken up, as many of the men had to be up for first shift in the morning. The lamps had been put out and the moon illuminated the deck with a pale silvery glow.

Halfway to the bow, she realized someone waited for her there. She eyed him for a moment and then decided against turning back—she wanted a chance to yell at him anyway. "Good evening, Captain," she said formally.

He sniffed. "You've been in me rum."

The accusation in his voice rankled. "You shouldn't have left it out if you didn't want me to drink it."

Jack tilted his head and considered her. "My tremendous intuitive sense of the female creature tells me that you are troubled."

She snorted. "Then perhaps your intuitive sense should have told you not to tell such a tale within hearing of a boy not yet seven." Emboldened by the alcohol, she poked him hard in the chest. "Do you know what he asked me, Jack? He asked what you meant when you did this." She repeated the gesture.

Jack had the sense to look sheepish. "M'sorry 'bout that, Lizabeth," he said, and she could tell he was sincere. "The men asked for a story, and I suppose in the festive mood, I forgot Liam was nearby. In my defense though, he was playing away on his penny whistle when I started."

"You know that any time you start telling a story, he drops whatever he's doing so he can listen. He wants nothing more than to be just like his Uncle Jack… well forgive me if I'm not ready for my son to be fornicating with milkmaids!" Jack grinned. "Do you think this is funny?"

"Of course not," he said quickly. "But really Lizzie—fornicating with milkmaids?"

Hearing the words from his mouth sent the images she had fought to lose back to mind. She ground her teeth together and stepped around him so she could look out at the midnight blue of the ocean. "It wasn't quite as funny listening to you tell the story," she mumbled.

Jack didn't answer, and she figured he had left._ Typical man to leave in the middle of an argument._ A breeze came up off the water and she wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly chilled despite the warm night. _Where is Will on this January night? _she wondered. _I am so very tired of always being alone… _She took a deep breath of the sweet sea air and let it out on a sigh.

"If something's bothering you that much, luv, it seems to me you'd want to be talking about it."

She looked over her shoulder; he hadn't moved. "Perhaps I'm not sure what's bothering me."

Jack stepped forward and leaned against the deck, his arms crossed in front of him. "We've got the whole night for you to work it out, Lizzie."

She thought of the gesture Liam had copied and then of the apparently voluptuous milkmaids. Her own figure tended more toward slim and lithe than well-endowed, and though it made it easier for her to blend in with the men on a pirate ship, it did occasionally leave her feeling inadequate. "I suppose I should be glad I'm not buxom like one of those maids," she said with more than a hint of bitterness, "or our relationship might have serious problems."

Jack let out a hoarse laugh. He grabbed her by the elbow and pulled her closer to him. She could see incredulity in his face, mixed with something else, and she felt the same delicious awareness she always did when he was near. "Is that what you think?" he demanded. "Do you really think you're…" He looked her up and down and the sudden heat in his eyes set her body aflame.

He drew her closer and leaned down to whisper in her ear. "You'd be the death of me if you were any more desirable, darlin."

His rough voice sent shivers up and down her spine, and she pulled back slightly to look at him. "Jack…"

He let her go so abruptly that she fell back against the railing. "Don't be sayin' my name in that voice, Lizzie, not if you want me to keep my promise." He let out a quick breath, and it amazed her that she could drive him to the edge of his control.

The moment passed and a smirk crossed his face. "Though maybe you don't—you were jealous of those milkmaids, weren't you? Did you wish I was talking about you instead?"

She opened her mouth and closed it several times, but no words came. Finally she ran back to the cabin and slammed the door shut with no thought for Liam sleeping next door.

She leaned against the door, her fingers splayed out on either side of her. Her quick breathing filled the room, but it did not drown out Jack's words echoing through her mind. _"You were jealous of those milkmaids, weren't you?"_

Heaven help her, she was, though not in the manner Jack thought. She wasn't filled with a covetous envy, but with possessive jealousy. Jack was _hers_, and those… whores had had him while she had not.

Her fevered brain worked quickly, putting together things she'd refused to think about until tonight: how much she trusted Jack, counted on him, the way talking to him at the end of a difficult day could make her smile again. She remembered too the way a single look from him could set her entire body on fire, and how she hadn't been able to sleep the first week on the Pearl because the cabin smelled so much like him.

_I'm in love with Jack._

Disclaimer: Pirates of the Caribbean belongs to Walt Disney Studios. I make no money off the writing of this story, and no copyright infringement is intended. I did pull one line in this chapter straight from DMC.


	9. Surprise

Nine Ladies Dancing

_Surprise_

One year later

Jack eyed the wassail bowl critically and moved it a few inches to the right. Satisfied with its position, he took a step back and surveyed the rest of the ship. "Almost ready," he muttered.

The idea for a party had come to him on Christmas day in the middle of a raid. They'd nearly gotten everything they needed to replenish their dwindling supplies when Elizabeth had wandered toward the mansion at the top of the hill.

_"Bad idea, Lizzie," Jack warned. "Magistrate lives there, near as I can tell. Man hosts a Christmas party every year; the entire town is there. Don't want them knowing pirates are in town, savvy?_

_She shook his hand off her arm and continued on the path. Jack waved the rest of the crew back to the boats and told them they'd be along shortly, and then he followed her up the hill. _

_"Bugger bugger bugger," he cursed as he pushed his way through the thick underbrush around the garden wall. He was in a fine mood when he finally found Elizabeth, but one look at her face stopped the rebuke on his lips._

_Her gaze was fixed on the mansion's windows, and she was smiling. The Lizzie of the last year had been far too quiet and solemn, and Jack couldn't bring himself to chastise her. _

_He turned himself toward the windows and saw what had brought that expression to her face. Inside, the party had moved all the chairs and tables to the edges of the room and nine couples were dancing. He could barely hear the music, but suddenly he realized Lizzie was humming along with them._

_Jack looked back at her and swallowed hard. In the half-light of the garden, she swayed lightly to the music. There was an ache in his chest, as if he'd eaten too much spicy food. "Father used to give parties like this," she said, her voice wistful._

That was what planted this crazy idea in Jack's mind. He'd planned for a week, trying to get as close to the traditional English Christmas as possible. Men had gone ashore for cypress branches and holly, and the cook had willingly turned a cask of purloined Madeira into wassail.

The hardest thing had been doing it all without Elizabeth finding out. They'd kept the garland in the crew quarters, but today he'd ordered her to stay in her cabin. "Christmas surprise for you, Your Highness," he'd told her. Then he'd barred the door—he knew her curiosity all too well.

Gibbs wandered by and Jack called out to him. "Mr. Gibbs! Are you ready to present our musical selections of the evening?"

"Aye Captain. The lad and I have been practicing those Christmas songs you asked for all week, though it weren't easy to do so without Miss Elizabeth hearing."

Jack glanced at the closed door. "How do you think she'll take this little surprise?"

Gibbs took a swig of rum from his flask before he answered. "She'll either love it or she'll want to kill ya for it."

"Aye, that's always the question with her." He eyed the setting sun and decided it was time for the party to start. "All right then, find Liam and get your instruments ready."

He stumbled over to the cabin and knocked quickly on the door. "All right Lizzie, I'm coming in." He threw back the wooden bar and opened the door just far enough to sneak in.

Elizabeth stood in the middle of the main cabin, dressed in the finery Liam had put out for her. Jack couldn't help but give her a quick, appreciative look. It had been a while since he'd seen her in a dress. _Now to see her in nothing._

Her voice broke into his musings. "What's going on out there, Jack? Why did you lock me in?" He raised an eyebrow and she had the grace to blush. "All right, so I wouldn't have known that if I hadn't tried to peek."

"Exactly. I know the way you think Lizzie—peas in a pod, remember?"

She rolled her eyes. "You still haven't answered my first question," she reminded him.

"And I don't plan on it." He pulled a piece of fabric from his pocket. "I plan to show you instead, but first we need to make sure the surprise stays hidden until the opportune moment."

She eyed the cloth dubiously. "Do you really intend to blindfold me?"

"Indubitably, my king." She hesitated for a moment longer and then stepped forward. He tied the sash around her eyes and then offered her his arm. "May I escort you on deck?"

"It seems I am left with no other choice," she retorted, but there was a hint of good humor in her voice.

Jack pushed the door open and led her carefully around the mast to the center of the deck. "Merry Christmas, Elizabeth Turner." He removed the blindfold and watched with satisfaction as her jaw dropped in amazement. She turned slowly, taking in all the decorations and food they'd prepared. Everyone was moderately clean, and Liam was dressed in his best clothes.

When she turned back to Jack, the look in her eyes put that ache in his chest once more. Uncomfortable with what he saw there, he waved his hands ineffectively in front of him and said, "I'm sure it's not quite like those parties your pa used to throw, but it's the best I could do on such short notice."

"It's wonderful," she whispered.

Jack gestured to Gibbs and Liam and a lively Christmas tune started. "I believe there was dancing at those parties, was there not?"

She curtsied and took his arm. "There was." The men clapped in time with the music as they danced up and down the length of the deck. "How did you get all of this, Jack?"

Jack shrugged. "A little ingenuity, a little pillaging. There's a mayor missin' his Madeira tonight." She laughed, and he pulled her a mite closer. "And of course Mr. Pintel sacrificed himself for the evergreen boughs."

Elizabeth craned her neck to look at the crowd. "Where is he?"

Jack grinned. "In quarters, covered from head to toe in poison ivy."

She bit her lip but could not stifle another laugh. "Oh dear."

"It's his own fault—if he had just listened to his friend Ragetti, it wouldn't have happened. He tried to point out the plant to him, but you know how Pintel can be."

"Indeed," Elizabeth said, merriment dancing in her eyes.

"Young Liam was particularly helpful in keeping you in the dark."

"You engaged my son in devious acts against me?"

Jack laughed at her mock outrage. "Pirate, lass," he reminded her. "Now tell the truth, you're not at all upset by the surprise."

She shook her head. "Not at all." Her laughter died, and Jack shifted uneasily under her questioning gaze. "Why did you do it, Jack?"

He coughed and looked away. "We all needed a bit of celebration, luv. Now, I have it on the word of an expert that this wassail is not to be missed." He steered her toward the table and poured her a glass, and then stepped back when Cotton came forward to claim her for a dance.

Jack dropped into an exaggerated bow and let the mute man lead her out. He took a sip of his own wassail and nodded approvingly. _It's not rum, but it'll do._ He downed the punch and refilled the glass, and then leaned against the mast to watch.

Rusted manacles still hung from the ropes. Jack had left them there originally to remind himself not to trust anyone, in particular perfidious females who would lure one to one's most undeserved death. That the same treacherous pirate lass now danced about his ship did not diminish the message one jot.

Mr. Cotton's parrot squawked and laughter bubbled up from Lizzie. Her question puzzled him, because he didn't have an answer. "Why did I plan this?" He hated seeing how sad she'd been lately, hated wondering if maybe it was his own fault. Even if he hadn't actually been the one to upset her, he should have been able to make things better—but he couldn't even figure out what was wrong.

Mr. Cotton passed Lizzie on to Marty, and though the picture of the short man dancing with tall, graceful Elizabeth should have amused him, he frowned instead. He saw now that the entire crew waited on the sidelines for a chance to dance with the fair pirate king. Her Highness didn't seem at all bothered by the attention either. She curtsied to each man and took his arm, laughing and chatting with them all as they danced the length of the Pearl.

His hand clenched around his glass when Ragetti came forward. The ridiculous little man had no business laying his hands on Elizabeth, not even in a dance. Surely she wouldn't… but no, she smiled at him just like she had to all the rest. "Too polite, Lizzie," he muttered.

But as the skinny man led her up the deck, she looked away from him and Jack met her gaze. The hidden laughter she showed only to him brightened his mood, and he took comfort in the thought that at least she wasn't really taking any pleasure in dancing with the other men.

_And why would it bother you if she was?_

Jack looked to his right and groaned; the miniature Jack was back. He'd managed to lessen their presence to mere voices, why had they suddenly returned?

_We're here to do you a service, mate._

He looked to his left. "Both of you?"

_Aye, that's right. And you'd best listen up, 'cause as near as I can tell, your time is running short._

"What do you mean by that?"

_I mean, my handsome friend, that in little more than a year, her husband will return from his otherworldly duties. He'll be expecting his wife to meet him; if you plan to change her mind, you don't have much time to work._

Jack stilled. He'd not thought of changing her mind, but it wouldn't do to let hisselves know that. "And why would I be wanting her to change her mind?"

The Jack on his right shoulder snorted. _Stupid question, mate. Real question is why wouldn't you? Who wouldn't want a lass like that in their bed? You can't tell me ye aren't dyin' to taste her charms._

His lips were suddenly dry, and he moistened them with his tongue. "I do want to taste it," he whispered to himself, remembering a certain conversation with his Lizzie. "But I promised her I wouldn't," he added, as much as a reminder for himself as it was for the other two Jacks.

_You were addled when ye promised that. Pirate, mate—ye can't be trusted. Take what ye want._

He fingered the braids in his beard. It was tempting, very much so. He knew it wouldn't take much work to convince Elizabeth to let him into her bed; he saw the way she looked at him when she thought he wasn't looking. And yet…

He looked back at her dancing figure. She was here because she trusted him. "I won't do that to her. If she came to me…" His breath caught at the image of the lovely Elizabeth offering herself to him.

He felt a slight breeze and looked at his left. The Jack standing there was shaking his head dolefully, causing his own dreadlocks to sway. _It don't seem right for a pirate to fall in love,_ he said.

Already more than a bit tipsy from the wassail, those words nearly toppled Jack over. "I'm not in love," he sputtered.

_Have to say I agree with my noble companion,_ the other Jack said. _A pirate who won't take what's there for the picking? Who's jealous that his lady is dancing with other men? Who spent a week planning a Christmas party just to make said lady smile? Sounds like love to me, mate._

"Get lost, both of you," Jack growled. He glanced to the right and the left and found that for once, they'd obeyed. His eyes swung back to Elizabeth, looking as lovely as he'd ever seen her. A band tightened around his chest, and he groaned.

"Bloody hell—they were right."

Disclaimer: Pirates of the Caribbean is the property of Walt Disney Studios. I make no money off this story, and no copyright infringement is intended.


	10. Desperation

AN: There are two updates tonight. Chapters 10 and 11 take place on the same night (one before midnight, the other after), and posting them both puts me back on schedule. Tomorrow is Twelfth Night and the last chapter.

Ten Lords a-Leaping

_Desperation_

One year later

"Jack Sparrow, are you even paying attention to me?"

The sharp female voice finally caught Jack's ear, and he looked down at the angry redhead he held in his arms. "Sorry lass, just doing a mite of thinkin' was all."

She huffed. "I'd think you'd have better things to do when you're dancing with me."

"Right you are luv, right you are." He led her on another circuit of the dance floor, but his mind soon slipped again.

It had been Elizabeth's idea to return to Shipwreck Cove for Christmas, but he knew she had been as surprised as himself when the other eight pirate lords showed up as well. _Seems we're not the only ones who've had a hard year of it,_ he mused.

With everyone in attendance, she'd ordered an entire twelve days of feasting and celebrating, though lord knew they'd had precious little to celebrate lately. They'd barely escaped the Royal Navy on their journey here. However, the lords of the Brethren Court and the Keeper of the Code had all bowed to the wishes of their Pirate King and were on the 10th day of what proved to be a very memorable Yuletide.

_And that is how I happen to be here, dancing in the arms of a whore rather than on the decks of me Pearl with just Lizzie fer company._

He ignored the voices in his head, which scoffed at the thought that the infamous Jack Sparrow would rather be in the company of a woman who constantly held him at arm's length—literally—than enjoying the pleasures the ladies of Shipwreck could offer. S'truth, he'd been surprised as any to discover their charms had dwindled, but in his own uniquely unruffled manner, he'd accepted it and moved on.

Word had soon passed around the brothels that Jack had yet to visit, and inevitably, each lady was determined to be the one to snare his… attention. Thus, he'd had no shortage of dance partners, but the one woman he wished to dance with eluded him.

She flitted throughout her guests, laughing and smiling at all of them in turn. She allowed them to place unctuous kisses on her right hand, while in her left she held an ever-full glass of rum punch.

Jack's lips twitched up in amusement when she took yet another sip of the fiery concoction. By his reckoning, she'd had at least five glasses so far, and though she wasn't stumbling yet, his well-trained eyes could see she was tipsy. _How much would it take to get her roaring drunk? _he wondered idly.

The dance ended and he passed Lynette off to the next pirate. "Ah, I think I'll sit this dance out," he told the blonde who approached him next. She pouted prettily, but he charmed her with a smile and walked away.

In the exchange, he'd lost sight of Elizabeth and when he found her, his smile disappeared. She'd wandered by Capitaine Chevalle, and though he couldn't hear what the Frenchman said to her, he could well imagine his oily tones. Elizabeth laughed and shook her head, but when she turned to walk away, Chevalle reached out and took her wrist.

That was enough for Jack. In a few quick strides, he was at her side. "There you are, luv—forgot this was our dance, did you?" He took her punch and handed it to the steaming Frenchman. "Sorry mate, better luck next time." Then he whirled her out onto the dance floor.

Elizabeth looked up at him and shook her head. "I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself, you know."

Jack scowled. "That may be, darlin', but Chevalle is a horse's—"

"Jack!"

He grinned unrepentantly. "It's his name, luv, ya can't blame me. Seriously though… he's not one to take no for an answer."

"And you are?"

For the first time, Jack Sparrow was tongue-tied in the presence of a woman. He could remind her that he had in fact been taking her no as an answer for years, or he could treat her question like an invitation to stop doing so. Either route would likely earn him a slap and make her retreat into the shell she'd lived in for the last two years.

Luckily, before the silence grew awkward he spotted another loathsome pirate on the side of the room. "I still can't believe you invited him to the party."

"Captain Barbossa is still one of the nine pirate lords, Jack."

He glowered down at her. "Captain Barbossa is a thievin' snake and a scurrilous knave."

"Says the pot of the kettle," Elizabeth retorted. "Now certainly we can think of something nicer to talk about."

"Happy to oblige Your Highness. What would you care to discuss?"

"Everyone seems to be enjoying themselves, don't you think?"

Jack looked around the room. Pirates everywhere were laughing and dancing, thanks in part to the never-ending supply of rum. Still, it was a far different scene than they'd been treated to the last time the nine pirate lords were all in one place. "That's why you planned this whole party, isn't it Lizabeth?"

"Why Captain Sparrow, I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about."

He snorted. "You put together a celebration because you knew that if we were all here for a month with nothing to do, we'd be at each other's throats by the end of the first week." He lifted his hand from her waist and tapped her on the nose. "You, Elizabeth Turner, are a dirty rotten pirate."

"I do believe that's the nicest thing you've ever said about me, Jack."

He chuckled. "Then allow me to add devious scoundrel to the list of epithets, darlin'."

"I'm not sure I can handle much more of your flattery, sir." Jack's chest tightened and he drew her closer. _I love it when she pretends she's still the oh-so-proper Governor's daughter. _

They finished the dance in comfortable silence. When it was over, Jack was surprised by the snickers he heard from the people around them. "Oi, look where the Captain and Mrs. Turner stopped!"

Jack looked up and felt a queer sensation in the pit of his stomach. They were standing directly under something that greatly resembled… "Mistletoe."

He looked back at Elizabeth, but he couldn't read the expression on her face. The pirate in him shouted loudly that this was the best chance he'd get to kiss her, and it would be completely guilt free. But he had promised…

"Jack," a familiar voice drawled, "be ye gonna kiss her or not?"

"Bugger off, Hector." He didn't spare his arch enemy a glance. Every nerve in his body was trained on Elizabeth. _What will she do?_

Much to his surprise, the hand at his shoulder slipped up to his neck. "It's just tradition, Jack," she whispered, but there was nothing traditional about the way he felt when her lips met his.

Even a good man can only withstand so much temptation, and Jack had reached his breaking point. With one hand, he tilted her head back to give him a better angle on her lips. The other hand pulled her closer until not a breath of air could pass between them, and he growled low in his throat at the feeling of her body next to his.

Her hand rested on his shoulder, and for a heartbeat, he thought she was going to push him away. Instead she arched into the kiss and opened her mouth beneath his.

That first taste of her nearly shattered his control. With his last bit of resolve he eased back from the kiss. Her eyes were still closed and she was breathing heavily, and he moved his hand around to caress her face lightly. She looked at him then through passion glazed eyes, and masculine satisfaction shot through him.

The shouts and laughter of their friends broke into their private moment, and he said, "Perhaps we should take this somewhere more private, luv."

Her expression cleared and she looked around at everyone in surprise. "Yes… perhaps… Ah, I believe it's past time that Liam was in bed."

Jack ached to follow her, but he didn't have a ready-made excuse to leave the party. However, as soon as he could join her… He twisted his beard lightly in anticipation.

Disclaimer: Pirates of the Caribbean belongs to Walt Disney Studios. I make no money off this story, and no copyright infringement is intended.


	11. Loss

Eleven Pipers Piping

_Loss_

Elizabeth was barely aware of anything as she hustled Liam out of the great chamber and down the hall toward their chambers. Her lips still tingled from Jack's kiss, and her body flushed when she remembered how tenderly his lips had moved over her own.

_It was only a mistletoe kiss, there's nothing wrong with that._ She tried to reassure herself with that thought as she watched Liam get ready for bed, but she knew the lie of it. She had wanted to kiss Jack for years; the mistletoe had simply offered an excuse. But how would she explain that to her husband?

_Oh God, Will. How could I have done this to him? If Jack hadn't pulled back… or if we had been alone…_ Images of what might have happened—what she knew would have happened—filled her imagination, and she bit her lip to hold back a whimper. Heaven help her, she almost wished they had been alone. She yearned for Jack in a way she never had Will.

The truth shamed her, but a worse one came on its heels. It had been hard enough to stay away from Jack when the only memory she had of him was tainted by her betrayal. It would be nigh impossible now. How on earth could she stay faithful to her wedding vows if she saw him every day?

The answer struck her then with all the destructive force of a hurricane. There was only one way she would be able to keep her hands off of Jack Sparrow: if she removed herself from the temptation entirely…

She stayed in Liam's room long after he had drifted off to sleep, her mind a mess as she tried to sort out the implications of her decision. She only looked up when the town clock chimed midnight. "I should sleep myself," she murmured.

A small sitting room connected her room with Liam's. When she opened the door she was assailed by the scent of salt and sweat mingled with rum. "I know you're here, Jack," she said wearily.

"I wasn't tryin' to hide from ya, darlin'." She was too shocked to move when he stepped out of the shadows and wrapped an arm around her. He placed a kiss on the sensitive skin where her neck met her shoulder, and she shivered. "Took you long enough to get the lad to sleep," he murmured, and the intimate tone in his voice sent heat spreading out from her belly.

She relaxed against him and his shudder ran through her own body. "God, Lizzie—I thought I'd never get to hold you like this."

The hoarse whisper brought her back to her senses. She jerked out of his arms, though she immediately felt cold without them around her. "Jack! What are we doing?"

Even in the moonlight she could see his grin. "Thought that was perfectly obvious, luv. Must not be doing it right if you have to ask."

He reached for her and she shied away. His hand fell and he took a step back of his own. "Somethin' the matter, darlin'?"

"Only that I have a husband!" she cried out on a choked sob.

"A husband whom you haven't seen in nigh on ten years," he retorted, and she flinched from the tight anger in his voice.

"Because he's been doing his job, Jack. Would you have him neglect his duties, become a second Davy Jones?"

He swore. "That's not the point luv, and you know it."

"Then please enlighten me Captain Sparrow. What exactly is the point?"

"Ten years he's been gone, ten years that have changed you both. I can guarantee he's not the same man you married, and you're certainly not that same woman. The years have left their mark on ya both, Elizabeth."

"Again, Jack—the point?"

"One day every ten years is not a marriage. It's not near enough time to become reacquainted, to get to know each other all over again. Then you're separated for another ten years, and the gulf is even wider."

"The fact remains that he's my husband, deserving of my faithfulness."

He took a deep breath, and suddenly she needed to be able to see him. She lit the lamp, but as soon as she did she wished she had not. The fierce look in his eyes froze her in place.

"The fact remains, Lizabeth, that he cannot love ye near as much as I do, for he does not know ye near as well."

"Jack…" He took a step toward her and she held her hand up. "No, don't. If you…" She swallowed. "If you touch me again, I'll never be able to let you go."

She couldn't say the words back to him, but she knew he heard them in her plea. She could tell from the look in his eyes that the pirate also knew she'd just given him a way to seize everything he wanted. Just one more step, and she would be his. Will would be forgotten; she would stay with Jack forever.

His hand twitched at his side. The muscle in his jaw pulsed, and she could actually see the pirate in him warring with the good man, as if there were two Jacks standing on his shoulders, debating back and forth.

Finally he turned from her. "All right darlin', if that's the way you want it."

She fought to keep disappointment from her voice. "Of course it's not, but it's the way it has to be." She drew a breath and said a quick prayer for strength. "We've been dancing to our own tune these last 10 years Jack, and it's time to pay the piper."

He nodded curtly. "Right then. I'll just be going, shall I?"

Now it was Elizabeth who had to clasp her hands in front of her to keep from reaching out to keep him there. When the door closed behind him, she let out the sob she had been holding in from the moment he told her he loved her—_Oh God, he loves me!_

She dropped onto the divan and wept bitterly. Somehow, the thought that she had remained faithful to her husband was cold comfort. Jack was right: She and Will knew nothing of who they had become over the last ten years. Had his duties hardened him? Did he miss her? She didn't know the answers to those or a million other questions, and one day would not be enough to learn them.

She did not know how long she lay there, nor what time it was when she finally slept. When she awoke, the clock on the mantel told her it was gone twelve, and dread clutched her heart. Liam never let her sleep so late, unless Jack told him to…

She rose quickly, but she did not need go far. Her son sat in a chair by his door, his pirate hat clutched in his hands. "Liam, where is your Uncle Jack?"

She knew the answer, but it still hurt to hear. "He left, Mother."

AN: No actual pipers in this chapter, but the phrase came to me the day I began outlining and I knew what the story would be. For those who are interested, both "to pay the piper" and "pot calling the kettle black" (referred to in the last chapter) were in use by 1732, the date these two chapters take place.

So Elizabeth has rejected Jack, choosing to be faithful… Jack has left Shipwreck Cove, likely never planning to return… Will they have a happy ending? (Hint: the answer is yes.)

Disclaimer: Still don't own 'em.


	12. Celebration

AN: I apologize for the delay, but I wanted to get this chapter right. I'ts been revised and reworked several times, and I love it now. I hope you do as well.

This concludes the story. I had an epilogue planned, but I need to move on to other projects. Perhaps next year I'll add that last little bit.

Twelve Drummers Drumming

_Celebration_

One year later

Fog engulfed Shipwreck Cove. The light from the lanterns filtered through the haze, casting an eerie yellowish glow on the dock. Not a soul lingered there, and Jack couldn't blame them. _Who'd want to be out on a night like this? _He shivered in the damp air.

"All right, ye filthy bilge rats; be gone with ya." The Pearl's crew took off for town and left their captain behind.

Jack glanced at the door to his cabin. "Might just celebrate Twelfth Night by me onesies." The bloody compass may have brought him here, but it couldn't make him leave the ship.

He had his hand on the door when the pesky voices started again. _She might be here._

He snorted."Aye, and that's more'n enough reason to avoid the town at all costs."

Teague's voice chimed in. _What are you afraid of, Jacky?_

"M'not afraid of anything! Just… don't particularly care to see Mrs. Turner is all."

The conversation went back to the alter-Jack… or it might have been a different Jack. He could never really tell. _You can't tell us you don't want to see her. We know you've missed her—remember, we've seen your dreams._

"Nothin' out of the ordinary about dreaming of a beautiful woman."

_Ah, I'm not talkin' about those dreams, mate. I mean the ones…_

"All right! I'll go, just shut it, the lot of ya!" Ridiculous as it might be to feel like his own mind had invaded his privacy, Jack didn't want to discuss those dreams with himself—or anyone else, for that matter. "Yammerin' on about impossibilities never does a lick of good."

He headed for the fortress, not sure of what he would find, or what he wanted to find. He missed her, the voices had that right enough. _But is the pleasure of seein' her worth the difficulty that comes of leavin' her?_ It was the closest he'd come to admitting, even to himself, how much their last conversation had hurt.

He reached his destination and his bleak thoughts were forgotten. The front hall glowed from the light of hundreds of candles. It was a Twelfth Night party the likes of which he'd never seen. A table with an enormous Twelfth Cake dominated the room, and laughter and sounds of revelry floated out of the main room. Delicious scents tickled his nose, and he followed them away from the crowds.

Halfway down the hall, a maid walked by carrying a tray laden with bite-sized delicacies. Jack popped one into his mouth before she realized it. The sugary delight dissolved on his tongue, and he reached for a second, but this time she caught him. "What do you think you're… Jack Sparrow! Is that you?"

"The one and only, luv." He dropped an exaggerated bow.

She shook her head and laughed. "You've no need to be snitching treats from the serving tray, Jack."

He held his hands out. "Just a bit of pilfering." The maid giggled again. "Perhaps you could be answerin' a question for me, lass. Is Her Nibs in residence?"

"The Pirate King?" Jack nodded. "Aye. Actually, if you wanted to see her, she's playin' the hero in the Twelfth Night panto right now."

Jack stroked his beard. Despite his teasing, he did love the sight of her in pants… they showed her female assets off far better than skirts. "In that case, I believe I will join you in walking in that direction."

He left the serving wench in entryway and slipped into the great hall. The room was so crowded it was almost impossible to see the stage at all, but he finally found a spot where he could stand and see Lizzie perfectly. She was onstage with a pirate he could not place, and he guessed from the props that they were supposed to be on board a ship.

"Captain, I'm very worried about our coordinates."

Elizabeth's face was a study in exaggerated confusion. Even Jack laughed when she said, "Our…?"

The man sighed loudly and made great show of rolling his eyes. "Our coordinates."

She nodded sagely. "Ah. Are they broken?"

The crowd howled with laughter, but Jack grimaced. "Hitting a bit too close to home, dearie," he murmured. His compass was "unique," but it had the annoying habit of breaking whenever a certain pirate king was in the vicinity.

A drumroll pulled him from his thoughts. Twelve young men stood on stage, their presence announcing the success of the "captain" and her "crew." _Missed the whole thing—bugger_. One by one the players came back out for a final bow. Last of all came Elizabeth, greeted by the loudest cheers. She took the adulation in with a grin and a wave, and then bowed once more.

By some misfortune, she looked straight at Jack when she straightened. She jumped from the stage and he heard his name over the applause. "Oh no your highness," he mumbled as he worked his way toward the door. "I've heard all I need of your speeches, thank you kindly." The admiring pirates swarmed around her, and he took advantage of the moment to escape.

Jack strode through Shipwreck, his face dark as a storm cloud. Bloody Elizabeth for being so bloody beautiful he couldn't look away, and bloody compass for leading him here in the first place! "There's nothing here I want," he muttered and slammed the cabin door shut behind him.

His tossed his coat on the floor and grabbed three bottles of rum. He quaffed the first in one long gulp. The liquor burned his throat going down, but it didn't erase Elizabeth's bewitching eyes. "Bugger," he muttered. He sat down, put his feet on the table, and reached for the second bottle. "To you, Mrs. Turner," he said and took another drink.

He was halfway through the second bottle when the door burst open. "Well, look who decided to just barge in." He took another swig and looked her up and down. _She's a mite on the thin side,_ he noted, and then hated his concern. "Not pregnant this time I see," he said insolently.

Her jaw dropped. A moment later, she slapped him so hard his ears rang. Jack put his bottle down and rubbed his sore cheek. "What was that for, lass?"

Her hands rested on her hips. "That was low Jack, even for you."

He shrugged, a sardonic grin on his lips. "Pirate, luv." He leaned back in his chair and pressed his hands together. "You have to admit, your dearly beloved didn't waste any time gettin' ya in the family way on your first day together."

"On our first day together we actually… that is…" She let loose a frustrated sound, a cross between a growl and a shriek.

Jack's eyes narrowed. "Are you tryin' to tell me that yer husband did not partake of yer _marital felicity_?"

Lizzie flushed, though whether from embarrassment or anger, he couldn't tell. "That is exactly what I'm trying to say, Captain Sparrow—though I'm not sure you deserve to hear it."

"Perhaps you'll humor me a bit longer and tell me why he forwent such… pleasures." Jack looked her up and down, and though he meant the motion to be derisive, he could not hide the hunger in his eyes.

In his wildest imaginings, he could not have anticipated her answer. "I believe he felt it was not his place, as by the end of that day he had dissolved our union."

His heart stopped, but unfortunately his mouth didn't. "Tossed you aside, did he?"

She slapped him again. "He let me go, you blaggard."

He cleared his throat. "And why… why would he do that?"

"Perhaps because one day out of ten years does not make a marriage. Perhaps because it did not take either of us long to realize we no longer knew each other. And perhaps because he wished to give me the opportunity to find love elsewhere."

Jack swung his legs off the table and stood up. "What do you mean by that?"

She held her ground against his approach. "I mean, Captain Sparrow, that I no longer have a husband who holds my loyalty."

He took a step toward her, then stopped, his hand clenched tightly at his side. "If you're not sayin' what I hear you sayin', best tell me now Mrs. Turner."

She crossed her arms. "It's Miss Swann, Jack."

The words were hardly out of her mouth before Jack had her pressed against the wall, his lips hot against hers. "You're mine, ye hear?" It was a desperate plea rather than a demand, and he held his breath until she nodded.

He groaned when her fingers tangled in his dreadlocks. "As much as you are mine," she boldly declared.

He leaned in to kiss her again, but a thought stopped him. Her eyes opened when he let her go, and tenderness twisted in his gut when he read the confusion and passion there.

"Jack?"

"Give me a minute, luv." He held his hands behind his back for a moment. When he brought them back into view, the right was clenched in a fist. "I believe I have something that belongs to you, _Miss Swann_." The name was delicious, and he licked his lips, a gesture she followed with rapt attention.

"Does it matter now?" She reached for him, but he evaded her. "Jack!"

He nearly gave in to the desperation in her voice, but there was a little matter that remained unresolved between them. "Humor me Lizabeth." He opened his hand so she could see a small gold ring. "I promised to give this back to you, remember?"

She laughed. "Aye, and then you kept it, pirate."

"Well, I'm givin' it back now."

She held out her right hand, and he hesitated a bare instant. "Other hand, Lizzie."

Her eyes widened, and he knew the implication was not lost on her. "Jack?"

He stepped back into her embrace and put his lips against her ear. "You know Lizzie, I am the captain of a ship."

She laughed breathlessly. "This ship, in fact."

"That's right luv. And being a captain of a ship, I could in fact perform a marriage right here, right on this deck, right…" He nibbled on her ear and she gasped. "_Now_."

She turned her head slightly and her mouth slid down his jawline. She stopped just short of his lips and whispered, "Persuade me."

His fingers flexed on her hips. "Though you haven't actually said it, you've given me reason to believe you might actually return that tender regard I offered you once—or was I wrong?"

She giggled. "Is Captain Jack Sparrow ever wrong?"

"For once, m'not sure that's an answer, luv."

She kissed the corner of his mouth. "You weren't wrong, Jack."

Giddy relief swept over him, and he turned his head to plant a searing kiss on her lips. This time it was Lizzie who pulled back, a saucy grin on her face. "I believe you were in the middle of… persuading me."

He rocked back on his heels and stroked his chin. "Seems to me that if two people love each other, there's no reason not to get married." He gulped. "Assuming of course that they are both the marrying kind, that is, faithfulness not bein' a trait often found amongst pirates…"

"Jack!" She put a hand over his mouth. "I do."

She squealed when he licked her hand. "Now Lizzie, I hadn't even gotten to that part yet!"

"Well then Captain Sparrow, you'd best hurry up." She placed a hand on his bare chest and toyed with the ties of his shirt. "I don't plan to wait all night to ravish you."

His knees went weak. "In that case… Sickness and health, richer or poorer, forsaking all others..." She planted on open-mouthed kiss at the base of his neck, and his mind blanked. "Blimey, what's next?"

"Until we are parted by death."

He frowned. "You know, we really need to find the Fountain of Youth, luv."

"Jack Sparrow…"

"Sorry." He pulled her closer. "I now pronounce us husband and wife. You may kiss—" Her lips stopped his words in the most pleasant of manners, and it was several long moments before he said, "And now, Mrs. Sparrow—"

"Captain Sparrow, Jack—and don't you forget it."

"Right you are luv. And now, Captain Sparrow, am I right in thinkin' yer wantin to join me in a bit of… marital felicity?" The fire in her eyes was the only answer he needed.

Disclaimer: Pirates of the Caribbean is the property of Walt Disney Studios. I am making no money off this story, and no copyright infringement is intended.

Additionally, the lines from the pantomime are actually from Dick Whittington, a panto filmed by ITV several years back.


End file.
